by Cheryl Wyatt
There were plenty of seats over there. Yet Bri didn’t move and, admittedly, Ian didn’t, either. It was just because she’d brought her wool blanket and hayrides this time of year could get chilly, he told himself.
Nothing more.
* * *
“Cold?” Ian asked Bri a half hour later.
She shivered. “A little.” But she’d ended up sending her blanket to the trailer that had the most kids. “I didn’t realize there would be a hayride or I would have brought a heavier coat.” Her teeth chattered, causing her to be embarrassed.
Ian eyed the couples around him and how the men had arms draped around the women. All except Brock, huddled under two hoodies and sleeping like a newborn.
“He’s used to being in extreme elements,” Ian said.
Bri shook her head. “Unbelievable.”
Ian scooted closer to her and draped his arm around her. “Body heat,” he explained. Then winced, probably hoping that hadn’t come out wrong. Bri enjoyed the warmth and snuggled under the crook of his shoulder.
Pretty soon she rested her head on his arm and he didn’t tense or squirm. She peered up through her lashes to find him fighting back a grin. Bri was just glad for the warmth. Period. It just so happened that her heater was a human heartthrob. That explained why her senses were on hyperalert being so near to him.
Ian leaned against her, too, after a while longer, adding to Bri’s warm feeling. He’d let her lean long enough, and finally, he was leaning back. “Thanks, Ian.” It came out a murmur, causing him to peer down at her.
“It feels nice to just kick back and relax and enjoy a full moon on a nice winter night with friends.” Two screech owls let it rip, causing Bri to slam against Ian. He peered down at her and smiled. Then drew her closer. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from those vicious old owls.” His arm around her felt very much like a hug, and caused curious glances to drift their way. Now people would assume for sure. But I’m just the babysitter.
How many times was she going to have to repeat that phrase over the next three days now?
Once back at Lem’s house, which was actually an elaborate houseboat on dry land surrounded by fields and wildlife, Tia rushed up with Lauren. “Daddy! The kids invited me to a lock-in. Can I go, please?”
The other group of kids Tia’s age chorused her pleases. Lauren approached Ian. “We have plenty of room for her and plenty of adults to watch them. We have fun activities planned.”
“Where’s this?” Ian asked, scratching his temple.
“At Refuge Community Church, in the children’s church section. We have an extra sleeping bag she can use. Ben’s little girl lives on the way and has clean pajamas Tia can wear.”
Bri knew Ben as the Asian-American PJ who’d sung and strummed silly songs on his guitar for the kids while the adults sat near Lem’s campfire looking on and clapping.
“Please?” Tia stood on tippy-toes and clasped her hands.
Ian studied her. His face had literally melted when she’d called him Daddy. Tia probably wasn’t even aware she had, which made Bri smile because it meant deep down, Daddy was how she thought of him.
“I suppose, since you’ll be well supervised, you may go.”
Tia and the other children erupted in cheers. Ian smiled.
“Nice to see her happy,” Bri said on the way to Ian’s car.
The peaceful look fled his face. The muscle rippled in his jaw. She scrambled in front of him. “Ian, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean she’s not happy other times, like with you.”
He shrugged. Raised his arm as if to be free of her hand.
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. Flickered a glance her way. “Not you. You just stated the obvious.”
“Ian, for what it’s worth, I think Tia realizes you’re a good dad and that you love her. But right now, she’s a lot like that turtle, out of her element and lashing out, unable to understand situations beyond her comprehension.” What little girl could fathom a mother’s abandonment? Bri was twenty-six years old and still struggling with her father’s choices. “Tia confessed to being lonely for friends. I told her I’d mention it.”
A cold chill gripped Bri’s spine when she thought of her dad being all alone with no one. How would she even know him if she never went to see him? Bri gritted her teeth against the thought. Seeing her dad was the last thing she wanted.
Or so she thought. Somehow the thought of her own dad dying alone and never being forgiven gave her a dismal outlook.
“You okay?” Ian peered down at her, his concern evident.
“Mmm-hmm. Peachy.”
“Liar.” His eyes remained kind and his voice tender when he whispered it. Scary that he was getting to know her so well.
Because his eyes were curiously magnetic, she had to face another way. She indicated the tractor, which had logged many miles today. “That was fun, Ian. Thank you for inviting me.”
The chaperones gathered children to leave. Tia surprised them by running up and hugging Ian. “Goodbye. Thank you.”
Ian’s smile could power the universe. “Have a good time.”
Since other goodbyes were being said, Bri gathered her wool blanket and bid Lem and the others good-night. She felt stares and sensed curiosity, but because people were being respectful and honest about it, she wasn’t bothered by it.
She could tell Ian was seriously embarrassed, though. She could tell he’d gotten hammered with questions by his guy friends. She snickered. He deserved all the teasing he got, since he’d embarrassed her with that kiss statement.
Boy, had that surprised her. What had made him say it?
No way had he been thinking about kissing her. Most likely he’d been telling the truth. Still, it had been an awkward yet catalytic moment. Because in truth, the beautiful landscape of Lem’s property and the canopy of trees under a romantic silver moon would’ve been a prime setting for a kiss. For a couple who liked each other that way.
Yet for a second, Bri experienced disappointment.
Once at the vehicles, Ian opened his truck door and helped her in. “How’s your arm?”
“It’s okay. Little jarred from the hayride and road ruts.”
He went to his side, and she was overwhelmed with how his muscles flexed when he swung himself up into the truck. She veered her eyes away. Ian seemed nervous, his legs fidgety over the few miles between Refuge and Eagle Point.
The closer he got, the slower he drove. He seemed in deep thought, as if he had something to say. At least he wasn’t brooding. Once on Lakeview, he repositioned again, this time more pronounced. “So, uh, Bri. I was wondering, would you wanna hang out a little longer? Watch some TV?”
Was he asking her on a date? Nah. Probably just sick of watching cartoons. “How about a family friendly marathon?”
He grinned. “Sounds perfect.”
No, perfect was his subsequent boyish grin. “Wanna watch it at your house or mine?”
“Mistletoe’s at my house and so is Jonah.”
“Didn’t want you to think you aren’t welcome at my place.”
She studied him. “I break in on a regular basis, don’t I?” To get Tia clean clothes and switch out storybooks, but still.
“True.” He smirked. “I’ll get the dog,” Ian said as they entered her cabin. Bri smiled when she heard the tender playful way Ian interacted with the pup. Nowhere in sight was the beastly guy who drove her crazy sometimes. Bri fed Jonah, who flipped around in the tank in an apparent show of hunger.
Just as Bri put the movie on, Ian’s cell rang. He tossed his head back and groaned. Disappointment hit her too at the thought he’d have to leave.
He eyed his phone, then answered. “Hey, Mitch.” Ian stood and peered out her window to the trauma center. “What’s up?” He still
ed, angling his head toward her briefly. “I’m, well, uh, I’m at Bri’s.”
She pulled her feet onto the couch and observed Ian squirm. She knew full well he wasn’t ashamed of her. Just not wanting to have to face the razzing.
“Yeah, I can do that. Not a prob.” His shoulders slumped. “Nah, there’s no need for you to drive all the way out here. We were just hanging out, about to watch some T.V. Sure. Bye.”
After the call ended, Ian approached slowly.
Bri uncurled her feet. Stood. “You have to leave?”
He cradled his phone and tilted his head, peering at her as if determining whether she’d be upset. “’Fraid so.”
Now her shoulders slumped. His gaze swept to her face, so she covered her disappointment by rotating her shoulder, pretending stiffness. “I understand. I’ll walk you to the door.” She headed there, wanting out from under the intent way he was looking at her.
At the door, he didn’t slip out but leaned in. “Do you, Bri?”
She raised her chin, only now realizing she’d stared dismally at the floor. “Of course. Mitch probably needs you to go check on a patient or something. I get it.”
Face tilting the opposite way, he reached his hand as if to cup her face, then let his fingers fall.
She felt frozen to the spot. The air turned heavy around them, his eyes sedate as they roved over her face. “Just making sure you understand I’m not thrilled about having to leave.”
She met his eyes. Saw the same curious wonder in them that she felt swirling inside. “Me, too.”
Ian held the doorknob, looking extremely conflicted. Then extremely interested in her mouth. His gaze held there, then jetted to her eyes. Then he knuckled her door’s wood panel, sighed heavily and slipped out.
Whoa.
Had she not known better, she might have concluded he’d been contemplating a good-night kiss. But that would mean they were more than just friends.
She watched him go as he cast meaningful glances over his shoulder all the way to his truck.
Friendship felt safe. His brooding she could handle. This new sense of wonder? Not so much.
Chapter Thirteen
He had to be losing his ever-loving mind.
Ian ground his teeth and slammed the snooze on his alarm clock again in a state of total exhaustion. He’d had to go pick up Tia from the lock-in because she couldn’t stop crying for him. A plus—yet then he’d tossed and turned all night thinking about Bri. Then once sleep did come, he’d dreamt about her, her pretty eyes, soft voice, sweet laugh.
He stretched, rubbed eyes that were scratchy and unwilling to open then stumbled down the hall to wake Tia.
Soft weeping and sniffling sounded as he neared her room. He pressed open the door. “Tia?” His eyes took in her distress and then fell on the phone in her lap.
She tried to shove it under fairy-themed covers. Tears streamed down her face. She didn’t bother swiping them away.
Ian rushed to her side. “Hey, sweetness, what’s wrong?” Had she had a bad dream? Why did she have his phone? He’d left it in the hall to charge, on the wall table outside his bedroom.
Her lips trembled. “The phone made a funny sound. I got it because I thought it was Mommy.” Huge eyes implored his. “I waited up for a long time, but she didn’t call.”
He leaned in and tried to give Tia a hug. She stiffened, so he backed away. “I’m sorry, Tia. I don’t know what else to say.”
Ian fought the urge to clench his fists and teeth over Ava having the gall to text and promise to call, then not. What was it with her? Couldn’t she imagine what it was doing to her daughter?
Tia slid from the bed, grabbing a different set of clothes than the ones he’d picked out for her. Yet another sign she was pulling away. He fought despair. She clutched his phone to her chest. “May I see that for a second? I need to see who called.”
She gave it to him, eyes shading as if scared he’d be angry. Ian pressed through the missed calls. Caleb. He read the corresponding text that explained there was no need to call him back, that he was just checking on things, namely his sister.
“Was it Mommy?” Tia looked half-hopeful.
Ian scooped her up. “I’m afraid not. Ready to head to Miss Bri’s? Daddy overslept this morning. I need to be at work soon.”
“You said you were gonna have a day off.” She scowled, poking him in the chest with every word.
“Maybe we’ll go out for dinner tonight.”
“I like that steak place.”
Ian grinned. “You and Miss Bri.”
“Can she go, too?”
Ian helped her on with her shoes. “Sure.” Although with yesterday’s weirdness, better to have a buffer. Maybe he’d invite some of the trauma center staff along, make it a group outing. He didn’t often get to buy their dinners and wanted to.
They made their way to Bri’s. Once there, he pulled Bri aside. “She’s having a tough day. I know you can handle it, but if she gets too unruly or upset, call me?”
She nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll have her cheered right up.”
Ian looked Bri in her pretty eyes and knew without a doubt that was true. Five minutes in her presence and already he felt as though the weight of the world had lifted off his shoulders. “Thanks, Bri.”
“For what?” Puzzlement flickered across her eyes as she hung Tia’s jacket on her handcrafted hall tree. More and more of Tia’s stuff was accumulating here. And more of their lives were becoming entwined over Tia’s care.
“For just...being you. For being here. For both of us.”
She nodded slowly, then raked fingers through her hair. He noticed faint lines around her eyes, as though she’d had a tough night’s sleep, too. He probably shouldn’t wonder why, but that didn’t stop him from doing so.
He eyed the duck-themed calendar on Bri’s wall. “Is the goose still stalking you on your runs?”
“Every time.” Bri laughed. “I’m scared it will attack me.”
“If I had someone to watch Tia, we could run together.”
She met his gaze. “Thanks, but I’m perfectly capable of fending off an irate goose.”
He grinned. “Well, I’m not so confident and the thing went after me the last morning I ran. Nearly got me, too.” A flicker of vulnerability entered his gorgeous eyes. “Besides, I meant for the companionship more than for bodyguard services.”
She blinked rapidly, not seeming to know how to respond. What was he doing, anyway?
“So, it’s hard to believe tomorrow’s New Year’s Eve.”
“I know. I hope the New Year is better than the last.”
“I think it will be. Things are already looking up.” When she turned to him, one look at her kind face and he knew she was one of the main reasons for that. “So, you’re going to the New Year’s Eve bash, right?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Do you need a ride?”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought about it. Yes, I probably will.”
He fiddled with his watch, trying to stall. He could honestly say he’d rather skip work today and stand here talking to her all day. He scratched his jaw, suddenly feeling nervous about what he wanted to ask her. “So, you’re gonna save a dance for me, right?”
Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed an endearing pink. “Oh, well, sure. As long as you can guarantee it won’t be the hokeypokey or the chicken dance.”
He smiled at Bri, then Tia, off chasing Mistletoe. “She hits you up to dance to those, too, huh?”
“All day long. I think I hear those songs in my sleep.”
He chuckled. Felt a sense of giddiness over the possibility of a slow dance tomorrow night. What a sweet way that would be to ring in the New Year and celebrate their friendship.
Or whatever this was between them. For once, Ian didn’t feel dread or panic at the thought of it. Rather, hope.
A tentative, yet definite sense of joyful anticipation.
Bri cast him a shy smile below her long lashes. He felt no need whatsoever to try to hinder or hide his grin.
Mistletoe dragged Tia’s sock off and ran under the table. Bri went to rescue it but couldn’t maneuver well due to her cast.
“I got this.” Ian knelt on the other side. Bri’s floors smelled of wood polish and pine. He liked how clean she kept her house, yet it also seemed cozy, inviting and warm.
On his stomach now, Ian reached under her wagon-wheel coffee table and gently tugged the material from the puppy’s sharp teeth. More because he knew it was good for the pup’s teeth, and not because he was concerned about the dog shredding Tia’s favorite socks. She had two more pairs just like them at home. Ian tugged the sock a little farther.
Mistletoe emitted a growl wannabe and lunged playfully, but his sharp teeth punctured Ian’s thumb. Tia’s dramatic falling over in a heap of giggles made the pain worth it, though. He doubted she realized the dog had just actually nipped him. “My daughter’s favorite pair of fairy socks are not a chew toy, dog.”
Tia giggled again as the tug-of-war continued over her sock.
His beeper went off. Then again. He stood, caught Bri’s look as he eyed his pager. “That’s Mitch. And Nita, our ward secretary, who’s back for the winter while her husband is deployed.”
“I love that you give precedence for employment to veterans and their families, Ian.”
“That was Mitch’s idea, actually.” He scrolled through the message coming through. “Looks like we’re already hopping this morning. I should go.” He started to leave.
Tia leaped up from where she snuggled playfully with Mistletoe, who still gnawed on her sock. Tia scrambled to standing, one sock on and one off. “Wait! You forgot to ask her to dinner tonight.”
Ian’s ears warmed at the interest in Bri’s eyes.
“Oh, yeah. Don’t cook this evening because I’d like to take you and Tia to Golden Terrace.”
